Logs and Shanties

Some wise words began the week:

Therefore everyone who hears the words of the Commodore and puts them into practise is like the wise skipper who remembered to reef his sails. The rain came down, the Bure rose, and the winds blew and gusted against the main, yet the boat did not capsize, because it had reefed sails. But everyone who hears the words of the Commodore and does NOT put them into practise is like the foolish crew who forgot to reef their sails. The rain came down, the Bure rose, and the winds blew and gusted against the main and it flipped over with a great splash.

Sunday. It was God's special day. A day to get to know how to sail our boats better, get to know our crews better, and for some, the day to join the cruise. But we were all heading for Horsey chapel to praise and worship God. It was a delight to be joined by old and new friends. Praise God!

Morning dawned aboard Tornado. We made our breakfast upon our luxurious facilities and washed up in our on board sink, with water heater. We managed to finish everything with enough time to give our skipper a whole half hour to tidy up the boat before his meeting... cunning! The crew then started to panic when they realised they had knots to learn in less than 20 minutes, so we deserted the boat and I proceeded to teach the crew how to tie a slippery hitch only to be informed later that it wasn't on the list... GREAT!

Inspection... well what can we say? Ooops! Scrambled egg on the floor (or was that flaw), crumbs in the grill pan and crisps under the oven. That was nothing... I was surprised that Commy didn't make a comment about the loo...

At lunch Kathy proceeded to search the boat for odds and ends and we came across a vital flaw in Commy's inspection - a piece of cold toast in the oven! Hard luck Commy - we got there first!

We set off to Potter after lunch taking it nice and easy up the River Ant ... OK so our boat's slow and you all over took us, but that's beside the point. After a lot of 'umming and erring', Skip decided it'd be best to lower the jib so right in the middle of the river we came head to wind and lowered the jib. That is the truth for all those who over took us muttering comments about wildlife and cups of tea! Commy came alongside giving us advice about putting the motor on and reversing out... not that we were stuck! That came later... We managed to reverse out into oncoming batch tubs, sinks and zits. Finally clear, skipper shouted "Full steam ahead" and very gallantly reversed into the depths of the mud bank - we didn't have any excuse this time we were well and truly stuck. Ten minutes later we were off again and quite happily tacking until skipper noticed that in our mad frenzy someone had leant against the key for the engine and subsequently it had snapped! Madd panic... what were we going to say to Commy? Ooops, another bank, what lovely wildlife... Oh yes, sorry, apparently it was meant to happen - the prime opportunity to lower sails and motor into Martham - I believe you, skipper!

After a second good inspection, finally given after Commie accidentally (on purpose?) forgot us, I set off to trek around to Brown Bess. We rigged and set off for a brief but good sail followed by Meadow Dyke.

This was a bit tricky but we managed to get past other boats and arrived on Hickling for a good sail. After I took the helm and managed to shower the rest of the crew, waterproofs were donned. I was accused of frog impersonations by my fellow crew members on Wood Anemone, but my preparations were worthwhile as Katy took the helm and kept the sail in and the tiller towards her on a nice Broad Reach. More scattered showers followed.

The lunch break seemed brief but was long enough for many a sandwich, and then we set off for Potter and beyond. The sail to Potter was not without incident as we overtook and were overtaken. Sixty foot cruisers loomed around corners and the reed banks were used to good effect.

On the approach to Potter we suddenly realised that the moorings for yachts were filled with cruisers, so we moored up to one of them instead.

After a break for shops, we quanted through the bridge and stopped on the other side amongst yet more illegally parked cruisers. (How do you wheel clamp a cruiser, I wonder?) Carol thought that getting away from the bank was going to be quite trying, but the ease of departure was so surprising to me and Richard, that we were left stranded on the bank. We frantically scrambled onto Bootlegger, as Carol strugged to avoid even more foolish cruisers. We were soon, if rather frantically, back together again.

We made it out past the notorious bungalows and were soon creaming along, and then past the turning for the boatyard. As we headed towards the trees we decided to turn right around, with yours truly at the helm. This was to prove harder than I had surmised and I ended up with a rope burn for my trouble.

After a further squally sail we headed for home on the jib alone, where we arrived safely in time for tea preparations.

However, even this part of the trip was not without incident as we lost crutches off the back of the boat. We managed to communicate with an incredulous cruiser driver who fished them out for us. This caused a superb traffic jam, but everything worked out OK in the end.

Today was indeed an action packed days sailing for the intrepid crew of the Wood A-nen-ome.

Woken up at 2 in the morning by some idiot with a very loud outboard motor. It turned out to be Peter's snoring. "Ah well!", thought I, "didn't expect to sleep much on Harriers anyway."

Following inspection, Catherine was despatched to Woodcut to suffer Stan's Pteredactyl impressions, and we set sail. We then noticed that the throat was tangled.

"Blow it", we said, "What's the worst that could happen?"

We untangled the throat. Down Meadow Dyke we heard all about punks, goths, grunge, thrash and the rest from Peter. Judging from Skipper's description of his underwear we decided that our Skipper was definitely a crusty. In fact, so enthralled were we by this discussion, that we suddenly found ourselves at the end of Meadow Dyke. A good sailing session was then had on Hickling Broad, despite our Skipper attempting to climb the mast to see where everyone else was. I decided not to gybe at that point, although I was sorely tempted.

The tacking session after lunch was a dream. Cruisers just scattered in all directions in a frenzy to get out of the way of our Tsunami-sized bow wave. Fishermen quickly threw their tackle away and headed for higher ground. Potter bridge was fantastic. Cruisers were milling around, reversing into each other, and generally contributing to the chaos. Some cruisers had hit on the grand idea of mooring up to the "Yachts only" sign. So being a peaceloving crew we withdrew to a nearby bank of reeds. During the mast lowering I noticed Peter had not donned his buoyancy aid. Being a considerate and helpful crew member I thought to give it to him. Being conversant with ballistic trajectory theory I considered it possible to throw Peter's jacket to him. Unfortunately the theory didn't apply to bodies in free-fall under the influence of a uniform gravitational field. As a result I failed to make the necessary correction in velocity and flight angle. As a result too much kinetic energy was lost and the range decreased to an alarming extent. In fact, I didn't throw it hard enough and it fell into the river.

Anyway we made it under the bridge with more spectacular cruiser baiting and arrived at our moorings.

Fishing is an ancient and traditional art. The technique takes years and years to master and so often there is an expert seen coaching his young prodigies. The basic method is in itself quite simple and the key to it is usually stealth, coupled with determination.

Firstly cast your float out into the middle of a particularly narrow stretch of water, with the wind blowing straight down. Then sit there for a couple of hours, doing absolutely nothing. A few small fry may slip by, but be patient and your time will come. Then a large target will come into sight. Sit forward slightly and watch it all the time. It may junk a few times and eventually it will crok your line and slag. Do not touch the rod until it has travelled about ten feet. Then quickly grab the rod with both hands and leap up and down shouting anything you can think of. They rarely get free from the wire but often break it and if you are very fortunate you have now caught a large sailing boat.

After breakfast, quiet time and inspection, we reefed and were soon to be found sailing down the Thurne with Fiona at the helm. Andy explained carefully to us the technique involved in tacking down a river:

"The key thing is to retain momentum", he said wisely, "without momentum the boat with come to a halt and tacking will be fraught with difficulty; allow me to demonstrate..."

He continued by taking the helm.

However, as with all things, theories change and are amended as time passes. Frequently these changes in current thinking are preceeded with lightning bursts of inspiration. Such was it with Andy. Acting swiftly on impulse, he deftly manoeuvered our gallant craft into the bank, collecting a large amount of the local flora. It took us some time to grasp the brilliance of his cunning scheme, but at last we understood. Physicists among you will know that

Momentum = mass x velocity

By loading our bows down with reeds, Andy managed to increase our potential momentum tenfold. After a quick work with the quant, we emerged out of the bank and were soon heading down the river, the crew awed to silence by our Skipper's acute thinking. The skipper too, seemed strangely silent!

Who says life on the half decker is all mad, fast and furious? We had a very cultural time. After a spot of European appreciation in the form of Stan's Spanish nose painting we cleverly balanced Woodcut at the edge of South Walsham broad to view wildlife.

Perhaps someone should have given DJ a lesson in balancing. Later on when me, DJ, Sonia, Stacey and Paul tried in vain to dinghy back from the shop. DJ, when a dinghy has 2 people sitting in the back and one standing in the front it is not a good idea to jump into the back, because it might sink or capsize.

Fortunately no one drowned except the shopping.

My morning started with something that went bump in the dark. As I slowly came round from my state of unconciousness I realised that it had been Commy.

The weather looked fine, I'd had a good night's sleep, the day was going to be wonderful... then I saw my boat!

The boys seemed so keen to get a good mark for inspection that they'd started to wipe down the lino and mats from inside the cabin. As I thought that even for the boys this was a bit enthusiastic, I was informed that the paraffin had been spilt out of the lamp. Whoops! Mistake number one.

Alright, so the day had started not quite as planned but nothing else could go wrong, at least not before breakfast... could it?

Twenty minutes later, yes it could go wrong. Alan discovered that his towel and quite a bit of his drawer was wet. It was not leaky bilges. We hadn't had an uncontrollable water fight, Peter had knocked a cup of tea into it- impossible? - no, not with Hustler 3. Mistake number 2.

At inspection Commy didn't notice the gas had been left on. Our skipper then vanished and left us to reef our sail. Katy to the rescue - well almost! We hadn't tied the cringle on the end of the boom - Whoops! Mistake number 3 and boatyard man to the rescue.

Quiet time also went seriously wrong. Weren't we supposed to be doing John 13? Maybe but Psalm 17 is very interesting! Mistake number 4.

The morning's sailing was uneventful and if you beleive that you'll believe anything. After helpful comments to a cruiser stuck in shallow water like, "You can't moor there" and "It's a bit shallow over there" we sailed peacefully on to South Walsham.

Once there we had a gentle sail while watching Hustler 5 get momentarily stuck in the mud.

A visit to the shops, lunch and then a briefing on how to get out of a mud weight mooring when there were cries of "FEND!!" and then "NO don't" and then crash!! Whoops mistake number 5, this time caused by someone else.

After being expertly steered by Vicky, with Alan on the quantpole, we provided light, after lunch entertainment for the day cruisers. We just survived Ludham bridge. We moored under the trees to be protected and when we set off ended up on a leeward bank due to either a) the current, b) the wind, or c) something around the rudder.

The lovely weather that we had on Monday (for ducks) had at last subsided and DJ is pleased to announce there are no swear words in the sky. To people of a normal disposition they are called rain clouds.

Not five minutes after Sonia tried to withdraw some money from the bank, Stacey showed the crew of Brown Bess how to get expertly and professionally stuck on a mud bank. Mark's super suggestion to push off a local tree with the boat hook came with a neat little bit of gardening advice.

"Don't uproot the tree!" It's a pity Sonia didn't listen to our noble and wise skipper as not only did she uproot the tree but some reeds too.

After finding herself on the other end of a boat hook, nicely hooked to the boat garden and the boat finally moving away from the swamp that we had found ourselves in, decided to do what any other intelligent and sensible girl would do. She dropped the boat hook into the water and we drifted away.

"The boat hook, the boat hook!" was the cry of the maiden in distress, as Stacey was thrown overboard by her feet to grab it. "Get low" was the cry of the ever helpful Jenny. "I'll hold you" said Mark, laying 10 stone on my legs. The cry similar to that of Count Dracula echoed through the cruisers as my shin bone got squashed onto the hard wooden deck.

After missing the boat hook by about 10 feet, ready about was the cry of our skipper and bliss was the cry of my shins. And again we came round to face our lonesome and bobbing boat hook. And at this point I would like to say thank you to the reeds which were now quite well for hanging onto our boat hook until we ran it over. Talking of over, I again got hung over the side of the well this time armed with a mop and Sonia holding me up by my life jacket.

"Don't let go" was the cry of my now familiar dulcet tones.

"What was that" said Sonia, letting me go and coming closer to listen. When I screamed she caught my Tshirt almost gripping me as I hooked the boat hook with the mop and then hauling myself into the well, as the Spin dryer got back onto course.

After a series of incidents today I am going to take this opportunity to relate to you all, some words of wisdom (or otherwise) regarding quanting.

Quanting, aka quantum theory of quantation, involves the use of an oversize stick to propel the boat in a forward direction. This is the first problem as many an attempt fails even at this elementary level. The next stage is to keep the boat moving and this can prove especially difficult around impudent cruisers. Finally the bottom will prove to be most trying of all, it is always too hard, or too soft. And in the immortal words of John Boughton, "Don't let go of the quant pole".

It's 7 o'clock, time for a party! For those among us uneducated in the ways of rock music, that was a quote from a Quine Boys' song. After getting up, bathed, watched the breakfast TV and eaten a grapefruit we would all generally feel ready to start sailing. But because we're on Harriers everyone wants to stay in bed.

When we eventually set off, first we decided to give everyone else a lesson in how to parade up and down a dyke looking really cool and in control. Things took a swift turn for the worse when stuck on a lee bank at Ludham.

Later Helen took our boat for a quick thrash on the Bure, after successfully overtaking a large cruiser. That showed them after yesterday's comments of "Well, they could have moored their sail our way?"

After throwing everything around in the cabin onto Thea, who was trying to relax, we joined everyone else on the broad. About ten minutes of peace afterwards there was a loud yelling coming from Andy on Hustler 5. I turned round to see him hanging from the jib screaming that it wouldn't come down. After a small suggestion from Kate that he should try uncleating it, he found that it cunningly started to move.

Anyway, chaos over and dinner eaten, our boat was just putting its second reef in when I noticed DJ floating in a dinghy in the opposite direction to any of the boats.

He was desperately trying to row, and was failing miserably with cries for help.

Paul masterfully and heroically leapt to his rescue and returned poor defenceless DJ from the grasp of an evil motor cruiser, whose crew were jeering and laughing.

After our sails were up and we were heeling enormously, we took our places on the forepeak. For those of you who don't believe that Bootlegger heels much, I'll only say that Thea let out an almighty scream as her leg was immersed under the water whilst lying in the middle of the forepeak, with my clinging onto her and the shrouds. On the other tack Wendy took a deep breath in every time. She told me it was in case she went under and couldn't breathe.

To follow this log you must understand that the Victorian age was the stop of the great age of experimentation.

Noticed with interest that the Red Indian's war paint is getting paler. Today he spent the morning recovering in the Commodore's luxury chocolate box. Such is the effort of civilisation on these poor indigenous people from Birmingham airport.

So to today, morning crew much disgruntled as skipper contemplates a second reef at Ludham. The tough crew are determined to get the deck awash. However even Paul with both tiller and main sheet can only get a few spots into the boat.

However afternoon crew are very different. The thought of the skipper with a double reefed boat causes both boys to desert ship before it starts. However the ladies demonstrate no such cowardice.

So experiment one. Can the skipper proceed to knock Catherine into the brown while hoisting the sail? Result: yes. Catherine disappeared into the soup. But we are moored alongside her night boat and so in a few minutes we are ready to try experiment 2.

Can the skipper persuade the gaff to knock Susie into the water? Result: no. We only succeed in nearly breaking her nose. But even that is not as bad as it seems as she has an uncle who straightens broken noses.

Despite mishaps the crew and skipper are still keen to sail. So far 2 nil to the skipper who thinks he is in control. Ho ho ho!!

Experiment 3: can we get the decks awash? Susie may seem slight, but she has a great determination when told to hang onto the mainsheet. She does and not only are the decks awash but the cockpit from mast to stern has disappeared under an avalanche of water.

In one of those brief moments of calm in a crisis the skipper gazes at the water where the side of the half decker used to be and wonders how much water we can ship before we actually sink.

However no time for further pondering, we break the half decker and during this performance an allegedly unmanoeuverable Southern Comfort tacks across the river to take a closer look at us and a polite voice from on high says, "Are you bailing?"

Game, set and match to the crew. Sailed into mooring and were provided with tea by kind lady in luxury chocolate box.

Well if I don't write a log now I've lost my chance for the year. First of all did I tell you about Sarah? She is Peter's girl friend, she's not part of our crew. Peter's missing her. Did I tell you about Peter, he's our pet gothic. A Gothic is a present day dracula. This shadow creature of the twilight zone stalls our craft. He avoids sunlight at all costs. Suns rays on his skin must be avoided at all costs. And his limpid eyes must be protected from the rays penetrating right into his soul. On Harriers Peter slipped his guard as he was devouring a freshly killed corpse of Pot Noodle, he got a tanned face. Oh no, the white lead came out and his face got a dusting until he looked like the lead singer of the band.

Well what can I say about Andy. Well as he can achieve the impossible and get a Boughton boat to win a song contest, he must be an alien from another world. This is confirmed as we were close reaching and he cries, "Ware Gybe!!".

Catherine seems to spend a lot of effort plotting her escape from the boat where Vikki is never to be seen except as we over take Spindrift. She always giggles and is easily embarrassed.

On Thursday my craft was moored up, the crew were ashore in the loos. Oh no, HIJACK! Helen leapt aboard, cast us off and we were off. It was mad, spontaneous.

I had the last laugh on Helen, I only had one reef. As the gusts hit we went over. I had a plan, the only honourable thing to do. Scupper my own boat. Next time the boat leaned I ran up the mast while it was almost horizontal. When I reached the gaff I stopped. Ha! Ha! The boat would not right itself until I walked down again.

Things in the afternoon were exciting but uneventful, until we came in to moor. I came in with perfection. Peter handed the bow line to Commy as we eased gently to a halt. I leapt forward to get the flapping jib down. When I looked up we were drifting out into the river. NIGHTMARE. Force 6 gale, no jib, topping on. Bilge on the helm, skipper tied up with the jib. Commy's only concern was, "Can I have my glove back?".

Today was a day that could not pass without comment from my good self, however my comment today will be different from other days, and I hope will reflect the thoughts of many of us.

Over the past week I have been made more and more aware of the presence of God around and about us. He has given us safety, good weather and wonderful boats. He has offered us a chance to sail upon his unparalleled creation of the Norfolk Broads.

His hand has often been on our boat and crew in times of crisis and as well as an appreciation this log is also a thank you to Him for His amazing interventions when the pressure starts to get up. I pray this will continue.

The fellowship and love we share has strengthened me and it is because of Harriers that my faith has grown over recent years. Friendships made on Harriers seem to be standing the test of time and offer a safe anchor at times when life begins to get you down.

This I firmly believe, is happening now on this cruise and has happened in the past because of the presence of Jesus and his overwhelming and almost incomprehensible love for all of us.

A Harrier has so much to be grateful for and we all owe God heartfelt thanks and praise.

The past:

1952 Morgan Derham started the Otters (boys) cruises at Easter for Scripture Union.
1958 Morgan Derham started the Mallards (boys) camp in the summer based at Horsey.
1960 There were 2 Otters cruises each year to meet the demand.
1965 One of the Otters cruises became mixed and changed its name to Kestrels.
(1987 The remaining Otters cruise because Kestrels A.)
1974 Harriers started as the SU summer cruise, basically following the Kestrels pattern. At the time it was the only mixed cruise on the SU summer programme!
1982 Harriers started a second cruise to try to meet the demand.

The present.

1993
At Easter:
Kestrels A led by David Gunton.
Kestrels B led by Neville and Val Khambatta.
At summer:
Mallards led by Patrick Corke and next summer will be based at Hickling.
Harriers A and Harriers B.

The future

1994 sees Harriers starting a third cruise to try to take some of the pressure on places on A and B cruises. All three cruises will inevitably have much in common, but there will be some differences as we try to develop characteristic features for each cruise.

A cruise will mainly have E. Whelpton yachts together with dinghies. It will continue to develop its competitions - all good new ideas will be gratefully received.

B cruise will mainly have Norfolk County Yachts and so the challenge is to get to the destination without the use of engines.

C cruise is expected to have fewer people than either A or B cruises. It will be geared for those who have been several times before. So it is planned to have some features which could not easily happen on A or B cruises. Join us next year and help pioneer and develop these features which will be aimed to improve your skills.

Every year before each cruise the relevant skippers meet together to see how we can improve over the previous year. Do let us know your ideas - i.e. which things were the best and must not be tampered with - and which things could be improved and how! Speak or write to any of the skippers or direct to me. We want the Harriers cruises always to be the best holiday possible!

I am very encouraged by the great turnout of the reunion - 76% attendance, the highest ever! As I write this article in November, we have received a good number of applications for each cruise - so if you intend coming next summer - do NOT delay your application!

See you next summer!

Brian Pratt

When we set sail from Ludham
We didn't know a thing
I know we've been on Harriers B
We're clued up on sailing
Now don't try to fool me skipper
Cos we're no longer clean
You've seen us sail and
You've made us bail and
You're what's bothering me.

Oh shame on you
The things you make us doooo oo..
We made the tea
And you make us clean the loo
But never fear
Cos we're gonna be back next year
You'll shed a tear
When we come back for you.

Now I'm the king of the Broadlands
The sailing VIPs
We've hit a bank
And nearly sank
That's whats bothering me
Don't want to be a noisy cruiser
And chug along every day
I'd rather have the wind behind my sails.

Cos that's the Harriers
I wanna be like you
Oh Commy
I want to tack like you
Run like you
Is it true
That a bilge like me
Can learn to be a Commodore
Like you?!?

All day long we've been a tacking
When we're quanting nobody's slackin'
Oh boy, come sail with me,
Oh boy, the broads will see
That we are Harriers B.

All week long we've been a sailing
But on Stan's boat we've been a bailing
Oh boy, come sail with me
Oh boy, the broads will see
That we are Harriers B.

Chorus:
Stars appear, shadows are a falling
You'll hear our song calling
Little cup of cocoa and everything's alright
And I'm gonna sleep on Spindrift tonight.

Oooh, all day long we've been a reefing
But I know we'd rather we sleeping
Oh boy, come snore with me
Oh boy, the broads will see
That we are Harriers B.

Harriers cruises, happened so fast
Haven't been sailing since the last
Saw the weather, thought it was fine
Met the gang, had a good time
Sailing boats drifting away
But ohh yes, we're in control

Tell me more, tell me more, did you get yourself wet
Tell me more, tell me more, have you sunk the boat yet

Uh-uh, uh-uh- ... Yeah!

Boats went by us, cruisers got stuck
I went quanting hit a cute duck
Skipper jumped he nearly drowned
Sailing terms don't mean a thing
But yes, they've got us confused.

Tell me more, tell me more, is your skipper a dude
Tell me more, tell me more, no he's terribly rude

(slower)
The week was over that's where it ends
Then we took the addresses of friends
So we made our final tack
And next year we will be back
Sailing days almost gone
But oh, those memories!

Well all over the Broads a new craze is in town
You can hear it going on where the wind dies down
It's funky and it's gunky and it's made from tree
You can do it on the river but it's better on lees...

Chorus:
Let's quant
To the rhythm of the Commy's honk
Stick it in the river with a plonk
And let's quant.

Now you use a motor or you can row
If you're feeling energetic you can even tow
But if you want propulsion with a tiny bit more
You should take a little look at what we have in store...
Q-U-A-N-T

Chorus:
Let's quant (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Let's quant (quanty, quanty, ooh, quanty, quanty)
Let's quant (hubbah, hubbah, hubbah)
Let's quant.

They're quanting by the staithes and into the docks
Up on the canals they're quanting through the locks
Commodore is quanting on Spindrift too
Our skipper's even quanting as he sits on the loo

Chorus:
Let's quant (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Let's quant (quanty, quanty, ooh, quanty, quanty)
Let's quant (hubbah, hubbah, hubbah)
Let's quant.

We're the Harriers
Burnt and red
Early to rise and quick to bed
Oh no! Jibe ho!
Sails up and ready to go
Skipper's getting frantic
Spot her silly antics
Think it was th'Atlantic
Ah no! Jibe ho!

We can quant
Or we can sail
With three reefs in, in a gale
Oh no! Jibe ho!
The port side's gone too low
Water's coming in now
It's getting rather grim now
Have to learn to swim now
Oh no! Jibe ho!

We're the crew of Anen-ome
So far ahead that we're alone
Oh no! Jibe ho!
It's not too far to go
We could stop for hours
Maybe use the showers
Even collect flowers (boys)
Oh no! Let's go! (girls)

When a cruiser comes along
We'll confound him with our song
Oh no! Jibe ho!
We're tacking to and fro
Pointing him to starboard
Pointing him to forward
Pointing him to backward
Ho ho! Jibe ho!

Run or tack, sink or swim
One thing's for certain
We'll always fall in
Quant in hand
Head for land
We all quant together

Motor cruiser, tried to turn
Our bowsprit went
Through the side of his stern
Our right of way
The skippers say
We all shout together

Chorus:
God is watching over us now
Keeping us safe on the broads la la
Jesus fills a space in our hearts
Together with friends
Our fun never ends.

Shoot the bridge, dodge the duck
We won't hit both
If we have lots of luck
Catch the sheet
Rejoin the fleet
And all quant together

After logs, time to sleep
Even though our beds
Are in the forepeak
I lost my sock
Slept with the mop
Now all snore together

Chorus

We all go home on Saturday
Everyone waves
As the train pulls away
We'll return
Our skin will burn
And all sing together.

When I first sailed on the broads
I asked my skipper
How do we sail?
Where is the bathroom?
Who cooks the tea?
When do we get our mail?

Que sera sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future looks bleak to me
We're on Harriers B.

When I first woke up at 7
I asked my skipper
Why am I here?
Where is the sunlight?
What is the time?
Don't think I'll come back next year

When we first began to quant
I asked my skipper
How does it go?
Has it got batteries?
Where is the switch?
Can't we just get a tow?

Que sera sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future looks bleak to me
We're on Harriers B.

When we first sat down to tea
I told my skipper I don't eat food
I'm a strict vegan
I don't like greens
I know I'm being rather rude

Que sera sera
Whatever will be, will be
The future looks bright to me
We've got mince for tea.

When the horn is blown
And the morn is come
And the rain is the only thing I see
I won't cry, I won't sigh
I won't shed a tear
Just as long as you tack, tack by me.

So skipper, skipper won't you sail for me
Sail for me,
Oh sail, sail for me.

When we tack, when we gybe,
And the sail is set
Then cruisers are the only thing to see
I won't cry, I won't sigh
I won't shed a tear,
Just as long as they don't come near me
So cruiser, cruiser pass me
Oh cruiser pass me
Oh cruise, just cruise by me.

If it rains, we get wet
But the waters calm and
The wind will lull to a breeze
But the boat it is stuck
And the reed bank close
So please won't you just rescue me
So Commy, Commy
Won't you please, please rescue me
Won't you please rescue me.

But the Lord he is good
And the love is His
And the cruise could not be without Him
Stand by me.

There were 6 in the boat and the skipper said:
"Heel over, heel over"
SO we all heeled over
And one fell out
Hit the broad and gave a shout
"Please remember to fasten up your orange thingy,
Buoyancy must be our number..."

One, two, three, four, five in the boat and the skipper said:
"Heel over, heel over"
So we all heeled over
And one fell out
Hit the broad and gave a shout
"Please remember to fasten up your orange thingy,
Buoyancy must be our number..."

There was ONE in the boat
And it was barely afloat
So the mate took up an office job in Croydon
And settled down and had a family.

The skipper's got a boat.

The skipper's got a boat,
Won't Commy be so pleased.

The boat wants a crew,
Won't Commy be so pleased.

The crew want the helm,
Won't Commy be so pleased.

The crew steers the boat,
Won't Commy be so pleased.

The skipper grabs the helm,
Won't Commy be so pleased.

The boat hits the bank,
Commy won't be quite so pleased.

The boat starts to sink,
Commy's jumping up and down.

We all get on the bank,
Commy says we should have reefed.